Who Knew?
by ELAELAELA
Summary: Sometimes the most innocent characters are the ones we should fear the most. A look into the mind of a seemingly harmless character of the books.


Who Knew?

_This is the oddest fanfic I've ever written. I have no clue where it came from. It started out as something totally and completely different and just turned into this. Sorry if you find it weird, it's just something I came up with on the spot. I'm not sure if I'll do nother chapter or leave it as a one-shot. Hope you enjoy!_

"James Sirius Potter, you get back here right this minute!" A tall gangly red haired girl shouted down the aisle of the train. She looked so much like her father and mother. I hoped that her mother's brains and not her father's had rubbed off on her. I've seen many Weasleys aboard this train. I think I lost count after seven. Every one of them is different though. It always amazes me.

"Rosie, calm yourself, I'm coming in a minute. I just want a few more chocolate frogs. Maybe a cauldron cake or two. Also a bag of Bertie Bots never hurt anyone. Well, actually, scratch that last comment. I've heard stories about this one bloke who's head exploded after a dragon fire flavored bean. How cool is that!" The dark haired boy ran up to me and started grabbing everything within reach off my cart. I did a mental tally.

"That'll be three gallions, seven sickles and four knuts please. And if you don't mind dear, please try not to make too much of a mess. Hogwarts had to cut back on jobs due to recent financial issues. They've added cleaning to my job! I would have quit but I need this job. There's surprisingly few jobs open for women my age. What a shame.

"Err ok Ms. Whatever you say." I know most of them think I'm a little off my rocker. Truly, I'm not. I've been working on the Hogwarts express for the past 75 years. Every September first I report to work and rearrange my cart. And every year I push my cart up and down the aisles. 'Anything from the trolley dear?' It gets surprisingly monotonous. My favorite part is listening in on the students conversations while I'm passing by. They are just too cute! I love hearing all their little relationship dramas and about who wants to be in which house. Oh those first years. So young and innocent. My kids think I'm just a busybody, getting involved in everyone's business. I'm really not. I just love these children (well, most of them).

It's funny. Most of them think this is the only job I have. Little do they know, I work in Honeydukes the rest of the year. I'm the one behind the scenes, making all of the delicious candies the children love to scarf up. Oh if they only knew what back-breaking labor goes into their treats. Hogwarts students are the worst. When they come to the store, they wipe out all of our stocks. I spend the next month without sleep, trying to replace everything. Maybe that is why I enjoy them on the train so much. I get to see what they're really like.

I'm getting sick of this. I need to make a change. Something to entertain myself on this ride that feels like years. Hmm, I wonder… I bet just a tiny slip of poison would liven things up a bit. I don't think it will do too much harm. Just a drop in the pumpkin pasty. Ahh, here comes the unlucky customer. Looks like another Potter. Uch, how I hate that family. It is all this boy's father's fault that the Dark Lord was killed. The days of his reign of terror were the best for me. I thrive off fear. Now the world is just happiness and bunnies. I'm glad this is the boy getting the poison.

"Can I please have a pumpkin pasty?" The boy looks terrified. Almost as if he knows what's coming. No, that isn't possible. He must just be nervous about having to talk to the crazy troly lady. Crazy my arse. I hand the little brat the spiked cake.

"Enjoy!"

"Thanks. How much does it cost?"

"Oh, nothing for you. You look like you deserve a treat." Ha as if. But I'm sure he does deserve the surprise that's in there for him. Ooh, he's taking his first bite. I hope he gets back to his compartment before the poison takes effect. It would be a shame to be blamed for this crime. Yes, I do know it's a crime but at this point in my life, I couldn't care less. I curse Merlin everday that I wake up and find that I'm still alive. Maybe it would have just been easier to take the poison myself. I just heard a thud coming from the boy's compartment.

"Albus! Wake up! What's wrong with you? James, go get the conductor now. Tell him there's something horribly wrong with Al." Oh, I forgot about the Weasley. She could be trouble if she did in fact inherit her mother's brains. I better scram before this is blamed on me. I have a great idea! I'll plant the evidence on a student. Perfect, here's a open compartment. I'll just slip the bottle of poison inside. Everyone will thing it's the little blond boy's fault. He picked the wrong compartment to sit in. His luggage says Scorpius. Odd name. Have fun in Azkaban little Scorp.


End file.
